Drabbles of BSquared
by CorieChan
Summary: Small ficlets of BufordxBaljeet. Ranges from slash/pre-slash/friendship. Enjoy.
1. Blink

**Yo. I'm CorieChan. And I've decided to write a 100 Themes all for my current obsession, Baljeet and Buford. Please enjoy. **

**I'm going to drabble. Enjoy. The world needs more BSquared. And while I wait for my scanner/drawing issue to be fixed...I'll attempt to write. Keyword. Haa.****  
****I'm going to attempt to update every few days...we'll see how that goes. Heh.****  
****Please for the love of everything holy, review. I'm so afraid of taking this pairing and murdering it. D:**

**Based on the 100 Themes Challenge from deviantart. Variation 3.**

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****1: Blink.**

_Buford had the kid cornered. He smirked as he took a step forward, cracking his knuckles and hearing the person in front of him whimper. The figure knew what was coming. It was inevitable when faced with Buford Van Stomm. He stepped closer, putting his arms on either side of his captor, palms slammed firmly on the brick wall to which this person was pinned. He watched as an inaudible gulp was swallowed at the low chuckle that had escaped Buford's lips. He locked eyes with this figure, and his gaze softened; No longer the head strong bully that everyone had come to know. His arms lost their pressure on the wall, and he let them fall to his sides. The person sighed in relief, but gasped as Buford took action once more, however this time a complete turn from his previous one. Buford's hands slid around the fragile waist in from of him, pulling the figure to his body. This figure, half his size, whimpered as Buford's large hands tangled in the curly locks of dark hair. Buford smirked and brought his lips to the boy's neck. The boy tilted his head back and clung to Buford's shirt, moaning as Buford left a small mark. Buford pulled the boy in even closer before brushing those lips against his own. _

_"Why do you always bully me...?" The boy whispered in a breathy but seducing tone. _

_"Because you're _MY_ nerd."_

Buford's eyes shot open and he grit his teeth, throwing his blankets off his body in a heated frustration. He glanced over at the clock, which read a few minutes past two am.

_'What_ in the world is going on?' Buford sat up and touched his fingertips to his lips. He replayed the scene from his dream over and over again, feeling a burning sensation in his throat. He quickly got up and ran from his room, locking himself in the nearby bathroom. 'No, no no no no! This isn't happening!'

Shutting the door, he leaned over the sink and splashed water onto his pale face, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach and the raging heartbeat in his chest. He looked up at his reflection and growled, only to have it turn into a frustrated half-yell. He turned around and slammed a fist onto the door behind him.

This wasn't the first time he'd had a dream about a boy. He'd come to terms with his sexuality sometime in middle school, around the same time all his friends-err, acquaintances, per say- started dating. But this time was...different.

He leaned his head against the door, let his fist drop from the dark wood and groaned.

"When the _hell_ did my dreams turn into dreams about Baljeet?"


	2. Youth

**Hey! Welcome to Chapter two! **

**Though I should probably explain why the first chapter is named "Blink" when I never mention blinking. It's because I kept thinking of this A*Teens song that one line say, "In the blink of an eye everything changes…". And to me, dreams really are like a blink. They're an instant. So…yeah. Thanks to Batgirl435 and Girl U. Dontno for reviewing. Especially Girl U. Dontno for the critique. ;D**

**Please enjoy Chapter 2.  
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**2. Youth**

Baljeet had absolutely no spare time. He spent countless hours at school, only to return home and work on the projects and papers assigned to him during those long hours. Granted, it was tough. But Baljeet knew it would all pay out in the end. He could become a lawyer. Or a doctor! To think…becoming a doctor. Curing patients and seeing another healthy life walk out the door with a smile. Yes, Baljeet was very certain as to what he'd do with his future.

But in order to get to that future, he had to focus on the present: His 5000 word essay due at the beginning of next week. He'd spend about an hour on it each night up until the night it was due. Baljeet smirked with confidence as he transferred notes from his notebook to a clean sheet of paper. He was the ideal student. He turned in every assignment on time, sometimes even early. He completed every extra credit project offered. His grades were top notch. He never received anything under an A+. Even in PE, which had taken all of his effort.

He was snapped from his thoughts by a low buzz coming from the corner of his desk. His eyes looked toward it for a split second, but then returned to paper. Baljeet crossed out his old notes as he carefully wrote them anew. He bit the end of his pen, trying to make sense of the letters scribbled on the paper. His phone hummed again and just like the first time, he chose to ignore it, settling into a rhythm with his notes. Glance, decipher while biting lip, transfer, cross out.

Baljeet was soon immersed in his own world, focusing solely on the work in front of him. After flipping through multiple pages and transferring every note, he pulled his fist down with a whispered, "Yes!"

He leaned back in his chair and sighed, rubbing his hand free of cramps. Only two more pages left for the night. It would be completely worth it when he turned in his paper error-free, written to perfection. An a plus for sure. Baljeet giggled to himself and left the room, walking downstairs to pour himself a cup of water. As he walked back up the stairs to his room, he could have sworn he heard voices outside. He ignored them and kept walking.

When Baljeet entered his room, he immediately felt something was out of place. He cautiously sat down at his desk and set the glass on the side farthest from his homework…which was not where he had left it. He started to panic when he realized there was a piece of paper with cut out letters, much like a ransom note.

"If you wish to see your homework again, you'll meet me outside by that big ol' tree in your front yard. In five minutes. Be there, or be squared."

Baljeet broke out into a grin. Only one person would steal his homework and demand to see him for the ransom. He ran to the window and stuck his head out. Buford was waiting by the tree in the front yard, a leg propped up and his thick arms crossed. Baljeet stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled, catching Buford's attention.

"Hey nerd, you comin'?"

Baljeet rolled his eyes and replied, "I need those papers back, Buford! This is not funny! It is not like my **youth** where I can participate in crazy shenanigans done by our friends Phineas and Ferb! I must focus!"

Sometime within his protests out the window, Baljeet had closed his eyes. And when he opened them, Buford was no where to be seen. As soon as he turned around, he was face to chest with Buford, who picked the small boy up and placed him over his shoulder.

"How's this for youth?" he snickered. Baljeet was in a mid-attempt to wiggle his way out from Buford's grasp, but decided against it for many reasons. A, he was a 130 lb student, while Buford was a 250 lb linebacker. B, He didn't care to disturb the swarms of butterflies in his stomach every time Buford was near, nonetheless actually touching him. C, It was a gentle sort of grasp….and Baljeet found himself more often than not imagining himself in Buford's grasp.

The next thing he knew, he was being carried over to again, a reminder of his youth, Phineas and Ferb's house. "Oh, this is just flashback central…" he muttered to himself. "And my paper….my notes!"

A massive blanket covered the Flynn-Fletcher backyard, and Phineas stood at the far end of it, close to the back fence.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you….The Phineas and Ferb Firework Spectacular Spring Show-Oh, there you are Perry!"

Phineas picked up his semi-aquatic mammal and returned to his spot on the blanket, next to Ferb and Isabella, who laid her head on his shoulder. He pressed a button, and sparks began to fly in the tri-state areas skies.

Baljeet gasped as he was put down, the most beautiful display of colors in the air that he had ever seen. He stood with his mouth agape as he heard Buford sit behind him. For the second time that day, he felt the large arms encircle him, and he was pulled down into Buford's lap.

"Buford!" Baljeet gasped. "I-"

"Looked cold." murmured Buford. He turned his head back to face Buford, who was not looking at the fireworks display, but instead at him. Baljeet did have to admit to himself he was starting to get a bit chilly. But he never would have expected such a sudden, brash move from Buford…

Oh who was he kidding, that was completely expected when it came to Buford.

Hesitantly, Baljeet relaxed his back and leaned into Buford. Buford's arms immediately wrapped around the small boy and he pulled him closer. Baljeet felt a heat rush from his toes to his head, and he smiled, eyes darting up to look at the illuminated sky. Baljeet's hands curled around Buford's arm and he felt a small squeeze.

"See? This is much better than homework." Buford said next to Baljeet's ear.

And in that moment, he agreed.

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**I should be in bed right now. XD Happy Spring! Please review? D;**


	3. My Worst Nightmare

**Disclaimer that I don't own Phineas and Ferb.**

**I hope you enjoy this song-prompted drabble. ;D**

**Please enjoy and review! **

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**3. My Worst Nightmare**

Buford was a bully. That much everyone knew. But what they never knew was that he would never actually _hurt_ Baljeet. He would push him down, but only to extend a hand and help him back onto his feet. He would steal his calculator and break it. But he knew Baljeet could easily get a new one. (His warranty had been renewed so many times the company almost knew when it was time for the new one.)

It was almost a game between the two boys. It came down to Buford's teasing antics with a wide grin, and a half-assed complaint from Baljeet, who would laugh and roll his eyes.

Buford would steal something of Baljeet's and hold it high over his head. Baljeet would sigh and try to get it back. Both boys never really minded how close their bodies were, or that they could feel the fast beats of each others' heart.

So when Buford had detention one day (ironically given by a substitute teacher for his "persistent bullying to that poor Indian boy.") and left the school an hour after his usual time, he was more than surprised to see Baljeet sitting on the steps, back facing him.

"'Jeet? You're still here? I thought Mondays were your free days?" He asked, taking a seat next to him.

"…Yes. They are."

Buford noticed something when Baljeet didn't turn to face him. Baljeet _always_ made eye contact. And his voice had this tone in it…almost like he was crying.

"Hey…what's wrong?" Buford leaned forward to take a look at Baljeet. His jaw dropped as his eyes scanned the tan boy's face.

Not only were his eyes red and puffy from crying, but he had a bloodied lip and a black eye forming.

Buford kneeled in front of Baljeet, gently taking his face in his hands and scanning for anything else that could be wrong.

"Who did it." He growled. "Who did this to you."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Baljeet hiccuped through held-back tears and mumbled a name.

Buford nodded and took Baljeet's backpack and slung it over his arm, grabbing Baljeet's hand and pulling him into his car to bring him home. He cleaned his lip as the smaller boy blushed, Buford taking his time to make sure everything was okay and not in need of stitches. He gave Baljeet ice to hold to his eye. And the whole ride home, Buford kept a hand on Baljeet's knee, comforting him in the tense silence that encased the air.

Baljeet came to school the next morning with a considerably less noticeable black eye and swollen lip. Buford met him with a smile and slung an arm over his shoulders. Baljeet had to stop his knees from buckling not from the husky boy's weight, but from the feel of his arm around him.

The rest of their friends met them at the door, each exchanging glances at the sight of not only Baljeet's face, but Buford's arm protectively around him. Phineas opened his mouth to ask and Buford cut him off saying, "No one messes with my nerd."

Everyone was thoroughly confused until a large boy from the football team walked by and received a glare from Buford. He gulped and hurried into the school.

"Yeah that's right, run." Buford mumbled. Baljeet laughed and leaned into Buford's arm.

Phineas, Isabella and Ferb exchanged glances once more and Ferb's eyebrow went up. The school's heftiest member of the football team had just passed sporting two black eyes and a broken nose.

"_No one_ messes with my nerd."


	4. Whisper

**Hey. I'm back.**

**This was prompted by Batgirl435 and inspired by the song**_** "Don't Go" by The Latency**_**. I STRONGLY SUGGEST listening to that song while reading this. It's just ahh~**

**Enjoy Chapter Four.**

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**4. Whisper (Don't Go)**

"Don't go…please?"

Buford's voice came out barely above a whisper. He never thought he'd see the day where he would be the one begging, the one pleading for something. And that something was Baljeet.

Baljeet looked at Buford with sad brown eyes. He was sitting next to him in Buford's beat up old car, clutching a wrinkled and heavily used map. His eyes darted down, and he tightened his small hands around the papers in them.

"I have to Buford. You know that as well as I do." Baljeet couldn't bare to look Buford in the eyes anymore. He could see his former bully's eyes starting to water, and he was holding back tears himself.

"But you're smart enough to skip college. You practically did it all in high school. Fuck, you probably did it all in elementary school…" Buford's voice cracked. "You don't need this. Just take a stupid test and leave. You can do that, right?"

Buford really knew that it probably wasn't that simple. But he wanted it more than anything to be true.

"I will not deny that I have had an amazing time with you for my last free days before college consumes me." Baljeet let out a weak laugh. "But this is college. This is my education. I-I cannot just walk away from this…"

Baljeet never thought he'd have this kind of struggle inside him. He desperately wanted to stay with Buford. To just say yes and let him drive off to who knows where, and to live happily ever after. But he couldn't. He had worked his whole life to attend this college, the most prestigious, the top in the country. His efforts would be all in vain. And that put another pang of hurt inside his chest. Though significantly less than his thoughts about Buford.

The clock blinked six pm as night started to fall outside the car. They had been sitting in the same spot for quite a while now. The same argument was going back and forth. And every time, Baljeet was that much closer to giving in. And Buford was one step closer to breaking.

For Buford, he never thought he'd be fighting _for_ Baljeet. Throughout elementary school he was always Baljeet's bully, and Baljeet his nerd. Middle school had been the same, though things had gotten less violent than their childhood years. Not that it had really been violent to start off with.

But when high school came, Buford found himself only bullying those who bullied Baljeet. For the longest time he would pass it off as "Bully Code", saying that no bully could touch another's nerd, and he had long since claimed Baljeet as his nerd. But even that started to fade away, even quicker than the lie it was made from. And the two became the best of friends.

The bond between the two boys was unlike any other bond either had ever had. Yet while they both knew what was unspoken, neither would bring it up. They both had felt it was better that way. And still, both knew it wasn't.

A loudspeaker sounded not to far away, calling the remaining students to orientation. Baljeet's hands fell from the map, pushing it into the creaking glove box and reaching for the door handle. He still never made eye contact with Buford.

Buford knew this was his last chance before he never saw Baljeet again. Baljeet would be so occupied in college, only home on short breaks to visit his parents, discuss his future, and leave back to his Ivy League school. So he listened to the screaming in his heart. His hand gripped the back of Baljeet's neck and the Indian teen froze.

Baljeet thought after middle school he would never have to worry about Buford's hands on him ever again. Not that it was a bad thing. But middle school was when Baljeet noticed his attraction to the heftier male, and every touch from him made his stomach become infested with butterflies.

Yet here he was, almost a decade later, with a large hand on the back of his cold neck, sending warmth down his entire body. He was expecting to be shoved against the seat, being told by Buford to stay, not being given a choice.

Instead, Buford pulled Baljeet into him, pressing their foreheads together.

"I'm begging you please….don't go. I could say that I won't miss you, but we both know that's a lie."

Baljeet's closed eyes slowly opened. Buford was staring into them with the most heartbreaking face Baljeet had ever seen.

"Please…" Buford's voice faded to nothing. "I need you 'Jeet."

Baljeet gulped. Everything that had been unsaid by the two boys was now hanging in the air waiting to be grabbed at and vocalized. To be said. To be acted upon. To do something other than be just a memory, or just a fantasy that never came true.

Courage overcame Baljeet as he tilted his head to gently press his lips against Buford's.

"I won't go."


	5. Trading In Who I've Been

_I wrote this at 3 am the other night. I was really tired and it popped into by brain. Mreh. Hope you like it~_

_**AN:** I know this is way long overdue. I haven't written in such a long time, and I hate that I haven't. If anyone at all has any suggestions, comments, requests leave em in a review, anything. I've been in a horrid funk lately, and I hope you all forgive me for that. I love you guys, and I hope you ejnoy this little drabble. _

_Based off of the Mariana's Trench song, "Celebrity Status"._

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For his whole life, Baljeet had worn typical "nerd" clothes. From overalls to sweater vests and khakis, neatly pressed pants and shiny shoes. Or a dress shirt with a tie. It was always the same thing, the same _safe_ thing. This, everyone was used to.

What they _weren't_ used to was the image in front of them. A slim V-neck tee shirt, long slung skinny jeans and Chuck Taylors. And the casual messenger bag, no longer the over-flowing backpack Baljeet took everywhere. This was…different. Not bad, just different.

Isabella Garcia-Shapiro was the first to say something but definitely not the first to notice. Buford had drove him to school that morning, as always, yet no comment - sarcastic or otherwise- was heard from the bulky teen. He simply sat, mouth gaping wide open, eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

The day went by mostly the same as others. Baljeet turned many, many heads; a few compliments were thrown to the Indian, and Buford's mouth still hung off the hinges. Baljeet said nothing to the reaction, he merely smiled and walked on by.

When it was finally time for lunch, Buford surprisingly had no food in front of him today; He just sat with an elbow on the table, palm cradling his chin and an utter look of confusion on his face. Isabella laughed, stating, "That good, hm?"

Buford didn't reply, he barely moved.

Phineas raised and eyebrow and waved a hand in front of his face. "I think he's broken."

"He is not broken."

Now _that _voice broke Buford from his trance. He quickly snapped his head around seeing Baljeet standing with an amused grin. Buford opened his mouth to talk, yet nothing came out again.

Propping a hand on his hip, Baljeet prepared to comment, but was instead pulled into Buford's lap.

"Wh~!"

Without being able to speak, Buford pulled his boyfriend in, giving him the most intense kiss he'd ever done, regardless of public appearance or not. A kiss so passionate it made Phineas and Isabella blush, and Ferb cast his eyes away. A few seconds later Buford pulled away, and now Baljeet was wearing the dazed confusion, added with a dreamy grin.

Buford broke out into a full blown smile and finally spoke.

"Holy _SHIT _babe!"


	6. I'll Be

**AN: This drabble is quickly** **becoming my favorite. For...reasons. You'll see. Or maybe not, heh.  
Ah, if anyone here would like to request a drabble or help with any input or anything at all, stick it in a review~! :) And I hope you all like this chapter as much as I did.**

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"Can…Can I have this dance?"

Baljeet was seated in a field of grass, trying to make sense of what just happened when he heard a voice. He looked up to see Buford standing with an outstretched hand and gasped. Buford? But…this wasn't possible. Buford wasn't here. Buford couldn't be here…he was dead.

But here he was with a crooked smile on his face, tattered tux jacket and red stains across the chest. Acting like nothing was wrong. Like they hadn't just been in a car accident that had sent them tumbling into a ditch.

Baljeet's hand started to tremble as he put it into Buford's. He was pulled to stand, and into his chest. He was hit with immediate warmth, not from the blood soaked shirt, but instead from Buford himself. Baljeet latched his arms onto Buford as well as he could, sobs overtaking his small frame.

"Buford…I…I thought I lost you!" He cried, burying his face in Buford's chest. He didn't care how dirty he got, or how much they both smelled like gasoline and dirt. All that mattered was that he had Buford here. And Buford was holding him tight, kissing the top of his head.

"It's okay…don't cry. I'm here." Buford replied, starting a gentle swaying motion between the two. He rubbed his hand in soothing circles on his back and up his neck. When he reached the soft curls though, he felt something there and pulled his hand back slightly, to see it covered in blood as well. A sad sort of smile reached Buford's eyes, but he put his hand back to Baljeet's hair and laced his finders within it. "You'll never lose me, 'Jeet."

Reaching up to cup his face within his hands, Baljeet kissed Buford on the lips softly, speaking between tears. "You scared me…th-there was s-so much b-blood…and..and y-you were sh-shaking….and I..I could not stop it."

Buford smiled, but the same sad look was still in his eyes. Baljeet's eyebrows upturned, and he scanned over Buford's face checking for something he might've missed. Nothing seemed apparent, but Buford still wore a sad smile.

"Baljeet…is this…is this what you want?" asked Buford, taking Baljeet's hands within his own. Baljeet started to reply, but Buford cut him off, voice cracking in fear of what Baljeet's reply could be. "Staying with me…Is this really what you want?"

Baljeet choked back a sob and was momentarily frustrated. "Of course it is what I want…why would you ask that?"

He'd just almost lost the man he loved; why would Buford ask such a question? He'd given up almost everything to be with him. Disapproving parents, glares from almost everyone he knew (aside from his small group of friends who had 'always known'), snide remarks as he held Buford's hand in downtown Danville. Baljeet recalled the day someone keyed Buford's car with the word _fag_ and smashed the windshield. He'd cried for hours, constantly apologizing to the bulky male, as if trying to take blame. Buford had been tortured by the football team for being with Baljeet. He'd stressed himself out trying to pass high school and get a job near Baljeet's college. He'd worked endless jobs for months, being fired and thrown out of place after place for everything from his record to his sexuality. They had gotten though all of that and so much more together. It was all okay now. So why was Buford asking this?

Closing his eyes, Buford pulled Baljeet back into his chest and held him tight, knowing that what he was about to tell him would probably make him go weak at the knees. Baljeet was shocked at this sudden embrace, but it was an embrace from Buford. And that meant he could feel him in every way. He was still there with him, he could still kiss him. He could still touch him. It was worth any gesture, no matter how big or small.

"We didn't make it, 'Jeet."

Baljeet felt all the air leave his lungs as he looked up at Buford, who he hadn't realized started crying. An unusual thing for him, but suddenly a lot of things started to make sense. Like how his phone wouldn't call anyone, not even 911. How none of the cars stopped when he ran up the steep hill and waved his arms frantically, and screamed for help. The sad look in Buford's eyes. _How Buford was standing in front of him holding him. _

"Oh God…" Buford's guess was right, as he had to link his arms under Baljeet to keep him up. The Indian went pale and darted his eyes around. This wasn't happening. No…he couldn't…he couldn't be… He gulped. _Dead. _"That is why…why you asked if…staying with you…"

Realization hit Baljeet so fast, and he held tight to Buford as he cried. They were both so young. They had so much to live for. He was going to go back home soon. To finally talk with his parents, something he hadn't done in years. They'd called him only days before saying they still loved him. And that was gone. Everything was gone. He was gone.

Baljeet barely recognized the sounds of sirens as they came closer. Buford pulled Baljeet down, to cradle him in his lap as they watched paramedics rush down the hill, one by one, watching their looks of horror as they tried to get inside the mangled car. They yelled, asking if anyone was there, if anyone could hear them. Baljeet almost responded, but Buford held him tighter as soon as he felt Baljeet move. There was no use denying it now. Both of them had silent tears, and were holding to each other as more vehicles arrived.

The jaws of life were needed to get inside the car. Not wanting to see himself, but still too curious Baljeet nudged Buford's chin with his head. Buford unwrapped his arms from Baljeet, but before he could run to the scene Buford grasped his hand. "It's not pretty," he mumbled.

Nodding, Baljeet whimpered in fear. "I-I know."

Still holding to Buford's hand, Baljeet led them closer. He was shaking in every way. He could barely stand, and he felt sick from crying and from shock. As they approached the car, Baljeet suddenly regretted coming over. Already there was blood everywhere. God, how horrible was it? How much blood did he and Buford lose? He didn't know if he could handle it. Then again…he was already dead….there wasn't much left to wonder.

But he stood strong, with his head held high as the car was slowly peeled apart. And Buford was right in every way.

It was horrible. It was a sickening sight to look at, and he wasn't surprised when one of the paramedics had to take a moment and step back so they wouldn't get sick. At first glance he couldn't even tell where he was. It was like he blended it to the car's interior. Baljeet couldn't find himself. He panicked, not wanting his family to see his body in such a mangled state. And he almost ran forward, to be stopped again by Buford.

"Baljeet. There's nothing we can do." Buford looked absolutely crushed. The sight of his own body hunched over was too much for him to take. Baljeet reached up and wiped dirt blood and tears from Buford's face. From the way he was acting, it seemed as if Buford had been gone for a while. He'd already come to terms with the fact he wasn't coming back. _He had to do it alone…_ Baljeet kissed Buford again, shaking with every second he held it.

"Oh my god."

His trance was broken as a paramedic's voice shot out. It wasn't a cry of disgust, but it wasn't a cry of relief either. It was an odd emotion.; Happy yet filled with sorrow.

Buford was staring past Baljeet and to exactly what the paramedic was looking at. He had a sudden smile on his face and held to Baljeet even tighter than before. His voice came out as a whisper, saying, "Look."

And that Baljeet did. He raised a hand to his mouth as he saw just what Buford smiled at. Buford died protecting him. He'd tried to shield the smaller male from everything that had come loose and every way the car had crushed itself. And he'd almost succeeded it seemed too. Except it was impossible to miss the red stains along Baljeet's neck and down his shirt. His throat… instinctively he reached up to touch it, but Buford took his hand and kissed it.

"I tried to save you. You almost made it 'Jeet. I almost saved you." Buford's voice broke as he hugged his lover from behind. "I'm so sorry."

Buford kissed the back of Baljeet's neck tenderly in a jagged pattern, and Baljeet just _knew_ he was trying to kiss away the image now implanted his mind. Baljeet could barely comprehend a thing right now, and the only thing he could do was be thankful he had someone who would do so much. Buford tried to save him. Buford had done so much for him, and then tried to do the impossible.

"I love you." Baljeet muttered in reply. "I love you so much."

They didn't watch the rest of the scene unfold, as their bodies were taken out and placed in bags on stretchers. They didn't listen as they found the note and ring within Buford's wallet, and it was carefully read aloud and set into a plastic bag for their families. They didn't hear the calls made to their respective families, and the murmurs of where to meet them at a hospital.

Instead, Baljeet felt oddly serene. His eyes were closed, and he faintly heard music playing. Buford was swaying along with him, his chin within the crook of his neck. He knew he wasn't alive anymore, yet he felt warm. He felt like everything was okay. No, he knew it would be okay. A breeze passed over him and it shocked him into opening his eyes. He wasn't supposed to feel the wind anymore. He was gone.

But his eyes opened to a beautiful sight. They were still in the field, but the car was no longer there. Baljeet's clothes weren't tattered and bloodstained. He tapped Buford's arms to let him go and spun, a wide grin on his face as Buford stood in shock. But he was okay too. There was no more glass embedded into his skin, no more blood, no more almost torn-limbs. They were perfect now. Buford gasped as he took in the sight of himself and Baljeet. They were okay. They were okay. He checked himself over, and checked over Baljeet.

Baljeet smiled so wide as Buford picked him up and spun him, kissing him and holding him tight. Maybe they weren't alive anymore, but they were alright.

Everything was slowly fading to white and Baljeet was put down, and the two were holding to each other tightly again. So they didn't know what was going to happen from here. This was the light that everyone always talked about. And they'd finally find out what was on the other side. Buford smiled, a laugh escaping his throat as he let his tears fall. He kissed Baljeet on the forehead and said, 'This is it."

Baljeet didn't bother to wipe Buford's tears this time. They both were crying, but they were both happy. He repeated Buford's words with a smile bigger than what he could've possibly managed.

"I love you."

"And I love you."

Moving together for what could be their final embrace, Buford and Baljeet smiled as their lips touched. Briefly, but filled with so much passion. Their foreheads were touching as Baljeet heard their names being called from somewhere far away, and Buford softly replied, "We're ready."

And everything was encased in white light.

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_"...But when those trumpets sound _  
_When the good Lord calls my name _  
_Oh I'm gonna be with you..."_


	7. Someone Will Be There

**AN: Dedicated to Grave Bells.**

_College-era ages. blah blah blah_

* * *

It was going to get him.

Baljeet was absolutely sure that whoever, or whatever was behind him was going to get him. He wouldn't have a chance to make it up the stairs to his apartment, he wouldn't have time to call his parents, not even send a quick text to his friends.

Even with those thoughts, it didn't stop the now-college student from taking the stairs two at a time- the elevator was too risky. It could easily be stopped or jammed or the security system hacked, anything!

He was really starting to regret his insistence on a fourth floor apartment, for not only the view, but the excersize that came with going up and down the stairwells. Baljeet could feel his palms starting to sweat as he gripped tighter to the keys in his pocket.

'_Almost there, you are almost there...' _he repeated over and over in his head.

A creak from the stairwell below him made Baljeet start running, letting go of the keys in his pocket and using the railing for leverage to propel himself up the stairs faster. He was only on the second floor, and combined with the fact he'd ran the whole way from the bus stop to the complex, things were not looking so great for him. He was running out of breath, but at least- for a moment- the creaking had stopped.

Thinking it was safe to lean his head on his arm, Baljeet instantly felt a hard yank on his side bag, and a voice was in his ear.

"You think you can run from me?"

Baljeet's head shot up, and he took the stairs even faster this time, and with the sudden kick of adrenaline it made things only slightly easier. He was ready to ditch his bag-it was only weighing him down- and even use the teeny bit of self defense he'd learned to help...worst case scenario, that is. Because after last time...

The Indian froze on the stairwell, completely disregarding everything that was going on. Last time. Just like last time. He'd tried to run, but he could only get so far. He'd tried to fight, but he couldn't hold a finger to the man's strength. He'd tried to say no, but his mouth was covered by a hand and then-

"C'mon. I know you can't say no."

Baljeet felt himself dry-heave as the person was suddenly right behind him, breathing in his ear, thick hands on his hips. He yelped, shoving himself backwards for all of three seconds before continuing up the stairs, fingering the keys on his pockets. Feeling for the one with the rubber cover, so he could unlock his door as quick as possible and lock it behind him and call the police. But that was if he actually made it up this last flight of stairs. He was out of breath from running, hyperventilating from the anxiety, and he could feel his muscles starting to ache.

At this point Baljeet could feel tears in his eyes, and he was speaking aloud to himself, hands shaking as he gripped the key in one hand, and the doorknob in the other.

"Unlock, please hurry, gears inside, please turn, please door, come on door..." he mumbled to himself.

But no matter which way he turned it, it wouldn't budge, the key wasn't moving the lock, the handle wasn't turning; NOTHING was working! Baljeet tried turning it again, and noticed he somehow grabbed the wrong key, wasting precious seconds. He could hear heavy footsteps behind him, but he couldn't turn around, he couldn't face that. Not again.

The footsteps got closer and closer, and Baljeet's arms fell to his sides. He slammed his eyes shut and let his keys fall to the ground. This was it. He was done for. He would have to go through that damn process all over again, trying to not re-live the moment every second they pressed for more information. Height. Weight. Eye color. Skin tone. Clothing description. Any significant features.

Baljeet shook as the footsteps stopped, and right behind him. He could feel that awful breath on his neck, he didn't want to smell it, to feel it, not again, NOT again! But the hands were on his hips again, pulling him backwards and-

Just like that, he was pulled forward into something warm and soft. There was a hand on his back, and another brushing past his knees. Something was being said, what was it? And why were his feet off the ground?

Baljeet opened his eyes as he gripped to the fabric of whatever had him.

Buford.

Of _course _Buford had him.

Baljeet took a few deep breaths before he could focus on what his former bully was saying.

"It's okay 'Jeet, I got you. Nothin's there, you're okay."

And just like that Baljeet was sobbing. Gripping to Buford's shirt as he set them down on their bed, burying his face in his neck. Buford's arms immediately re-wrapped themselves around his boyfriend, starting up a rubbing motion with one, while sliding off his shoes with the other.

"It was happening again. And-and I almost did not make it inside, I felt..._all _of it, and...and..." Baljeet stuttered as he tried to form a sentence, he really did. But he couldn't ignore the person waiting outside their door. Waiting for him to come back outside, so they could pull him into some dark corner somewhere-

"No. No, nothin's there. Just me n'you. I was right there. I Promise." Buford cupped Baljeet's face between his hands, kissing his forehead. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, then immediately pulled him back into his chest.

Buford started rocking back and forth to calm Baljeet and for the most part it seemed to work. His sniffles were softening, and now it was just small hiccups. But it didn't change the fact that some...asshole had the nerve to terrorize his boyfriend, and put him in a state of panic! Buford decided right then he wouldn't go anywhere without him. He'd reschedule his work around Baljeet's classes, and he'd be damned if Baljeet was ever taking the bus again. Insistence or not. Whatever it took to help him.

"Buford."

Baljeet pushed himself back from Buford's chest and reached up to wind his arms around his neck. He was still close to crying, but this position, being in Buford's arms, being with Buford made everything better. Almost like it never happened. And that small fact alone made him smile.

Which in turn, worried Buford, cause why the hell would he be smiling when he was so upset? Buford pulled Baljeet even closer, so their chests and noses were touching. He swore to himself he would do anything in his power to make Baljeet happy again. To make him unafraid to be in a room without him. Unafraid of going to sleep, and having it happen again in his dreams. Buford would create new dreams, full of better memories for Baljeet. Hell, he'd even watch Space Adventures a thousand times if it meant making him happy.

Neither of them said a word for some time, but the silence wasn't a bother. It was fine how it was, with Baljeet swaying with Buford and just looking at each other. No words, no touches, no kisses. Just this, and Baljeet felt a bit more alive. A bit more like everything would be okay.

"When I am with you," he finally spoke. "It goes away. I do not panic, there are no flashbacks. When I am with you...it is like everything will be okay."

Buford then understood the smile. He couldn't erase what happened, but he could make it better. And if all they needed was each other, then they would do it. They would get through it. Baljeet seemed to read his mind as he pulled their lips together.  
**  
**And that was all he needed.


	8. Fish

**WELL HELLO.**

I'm finally posting for BuJeet week (which is on tumblr, and I will gladly link it to anyone if they'd like), but I will be posting more...just late. Oops. Anyhow, here's this drabble for _Fish_, and I guess I should clarify some things first.

A: This is set when they're 13.

B: Baljeet has a little brother named Sujan. He's 3.

C: _Finding Nemo_ just came out in this drabble.

I believe that is it. Enjoy~

* * *

It was hot.

Hotter than any day of the summer so far, and probably the hottest it would be.

And Buford was _bored._

Phineas and Ferb were away at their grandparents' camp, probably building something to cool off, and here Buford was, stuck in a sticky house with absolutely nothing to do.

Biffany sensed this, and tried her hardest to encourage her son to still get out and move around. It was summer vacation after all, and Buford needed to get out and enjoy the sun.

So with a bright idea, Biffany Van Stomm picked up the phone and arranged a play date.

Half an hour later, Buford grumpily sat on the floor of the Rai household. This wasn't fair. Thirteen year olds _didn't_ have play-dates. And everyone seemed to understand that but his Ma. Play-dates were for little kids and he was definitely not a little kid anymore. Besides, play dates were just what they sounded like. Play. Dates. A pretend date. And here he was having a pretend date with Baljeet?

(Buford pretended he didn't kinda like the sound of that.)

And as the awkward silence passed, it was obvious both boys wanted to be in different places. Baljeet sat at one end of the couch, fingers drumming to an equation in his head. (His mom had said too much math and not enough creativity had some scientific link to depression or something...?)

And Buford remained on the floor, blanking flipping through a parenting magazine he'd grabbed off the end table. It sucked.

A minute passed.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Buford groaned and looked to the clock.

...Two more hours of _this..._

So. Boring.

He was about ready to give up and leave; ditch and hang out at the arcade or something (he'd already stood up, too) when something, or rather some _one_ chained their arms around his knees.

Sujan, Baljeet's little brother, to be exact.

"Heya Buford!"

Buford rolled his eyes and reached down to fluff the younger Indian's hair. "Hey kid."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"Uh, I-"

Baljeet jumped out of his trance and put his hands out. "No. Buford, say no."

Holding out a finger, Buford bent down to hear what Sujan had to say. After a few months back when Sujan asked for Buford's help pulling a prank on his brother, Buford _loved_ to hear what he had to say.

"Hold on a sec, 'Jeet. What movie?"

Normally, when Buford and Baljeet watched movies, one liked the movie and the other absolutely hated it. They'd yet to find a happy medium. But hey, how bad could a little kid's movie be compared to a documentary on the Pythagorean Theorem?

Sujan smiled as big as he could and stated, "Finding Nemo!"

Baljeet groaned and threw his head back on the couch. He was forced to watch this movie so many times he could practically recite the whole dang thing! And now Sujan wanted to introduce this movie to his bully? Oh boy.

Buford's face scrunched up for a minute, trying to think of what the heck this movie was. He thought he'd heard people at school mention it, but he was grounded from the TV and other activities that didn't involve being outside and active. (Never get in a fist fight at school again, he reminded himself.) But he couldn't think of the movie, or anything about it. Just a small fact about the name, though he _could _be wrong...

"Nemo...isn't he that guy from that Latin mythology story?" he asked Baljeet.

Baljeet threw his hands up and exclaimed, "Again with the Latin! How do you _know_ these things? You never did tell me-"

"S'besides the point. Is it?"

"-No! It is a silly children's movie with no educational value, no matter _how_ much marine biology is pictured! It the song was at least understandable, then _maybe_-"

"It's about a fish!"

Sujan piped up in the middle of the boys' argument, holding a hand to the DVD cover. Nearly grabbing the case from the three-year-old's hand, Buford's eyes grew wide and he pointed to Baljeet, then the TV.

"Sit down. We're watching it."

xxxx

Exactly 100 minutes later, Sujan and Buford were wiping away tears and shouting at the TV screen for the happy reunion.

"You go Marlin! I _told_ you you'd find him!"

"Hooray, they're back together!"

Baljeet could not believe his eyes. Here was Buford, his bully, his wall of meat for science fairs, getting emotional over a movie about _fish_.

Then again, he supposed, this was the same boy who fought a giant squid for his own goldfish.

So as the credits rolled on, Baljeet decided that he wouldn't mind watching _Finding Nemo_ anymore. Especially if it meant that Buford would be here every time.

And to that he thought, _Oh the things you do for love._

**THE (CHEESY) END.**


End file.
